


#kingandqueen#otp#j2

by TasteTheRainbow



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8863252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteTheRainbow/pseuds/TasteTheRainbow
Summary: Jared has never aspired to be a great actor but he does aspire to be closer to Jensen Ackles, who aspires to be a great actor. Cue high school awkwardness and a theater kid AU that spends an embarrassingly limited amount of time in the actual theater.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An spn_j2_xmas fic for shinybiancachu on lj, based on the prompt “ _We’re not playing the romantic leads but everyone ships our characters and they keep making us take pictures together in costume (I kind of love it)._ ”

** May-June **

When it comes, the inevitable break up, Jared isn’t all that surprised. His big brother’s already headed off to college so he’s spent more than his fair share of nights in bed, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder with his younger sister, talking about their days and their friends and anything else they can find to keep their minds off the fighting in the living room, the kitchen, their parents’ bedroom. Well, it’s actually more Mom’s bedroom now, since Dad hasn’t slept here in weeks.

It’s strange, the way the silence screams louder than their voices used to once he’s gone. Jared suspects that’s why his mom takes a new job nearly five hours away, moving them into a new house, a new town that doesn’t shout memories at her from every corner and closet. 

The new place is small - his mom calls it “modest” - but Jared likes it well enough. His mom seems happier and Megan hasn’t had any trouble adjusting, so that’s enough for him.

*

He's a bit worried that he'll miss his friends, maybe more than a bit.

Four hours after the movers leave, there's a knock on the front door and Jared opens it since his mom is putting dishes away in the kitchen. 

“Hi,” the stranger, who looks to be about Jared’s age probably, greets with a small wave, a skateboard clutched tightly in both hands. “My mom said I should come over and introduce myself. I'm Stephen.”

Though he can't really say why, Jared likes him instantly. “I'm Jared,” he returns with his brightest smile. 

It puts Stephen at ease, his shoulders falling as his blush abates. “Do you want to skateboard with me?”

Jared shrugs, shouts that he's going out to anyone who may be listening inside the house, and shuts the door behind him. “I don't really know how,” he admits because he's self-aware enough at fifteen - almost sixteen, though - to know that he's too clumsy for his own giant feet on solid ground most days.

“It’s cool,” Stephen assures him with a kind, encouraging smile. “Neither does Chad.”

Before Jared can ask who Chad is, they’re walking up the drive to a two-story house at the end of the street. A brash, incredibly friendly, kid with blond hair poking out of a trucker hat welcomes them both inside as though he’s known Jared for ages. 

Jared doesn’t miss his old friends as much after that.

** July-August **

The summer mostly consists of playing something that is supposed to be football but looks more like fumbling baby animals set loose in a field. When they’re not doing that, they’re riding skateboards and scooters and basically anything with wheels, including the old microwave cart Jared’s mom put out in the garage when she couldn’t find a place for it in the house. That one results in a close call with a pickup truck and a trip to the hospital to set Chad’s broken leg on Jared’s birthday. After that, they mostly lounge around Chad’s basement with beer they steal from his dad’s cooler.

“Stephen, you’re ridiculous. I promise your liver will not explode,” Jared insists when Stephen says there are serious health ramifications to drinking alcohol. 

Stephen looks at the bottle as if it will jump into his mouth without his permission, his eyebrow rising higher by the second.

He looks like he might actually be ready to give in when Chad says, “We’re two minutes away from the hospital if one beer sends you into a seizure or something, bro,” which ruins all of the progress Jared has spent the last twenty minutes making.

They’re into the second month of summer break when Stephen decides to audition for the school’s summer theater production. He goes out for the lead and ends up in a supporting role but Chad and Jared are just proud that he fought through his stage fright and went for any part in the first place.

Stephen can’t stop complaining about the ‘dickhead’ that did get the lead, though. If Jared hears, “It’s so annoying, though, because he knows how good he is. He’s insufferable,” one more time, he might full-on tackle Stephen in the middle of the street. Well, he’ll probably do that anyway but this time it will be with intent.

*

The thing is, Jared wants to hate Jensen Ackles on principle, solidarity for Stephen and all, but when he and Chad shuffle into the old theater on opening night, he knows immediately that he’s screwed.

The lights come up. Jensen enters stage right and starts to sing. The entire audience is in stitches because of his comedic timing, his overall performance, and Jared tries to loathe him but he just can’t. He’s electric, charming and vibrant and spot-on throughout the entire show. Sure, Stephen is great - he’s at home on the stage like Jared hasn’t seen him being anywhere else - but there’s no way that he would have been able to pull off the performance that Jensen is.

Chad leads Jared backstage after the show. It’s absolute chaos of the most controlled kind. Parents are fawning over their children, friends chattering excitedly about their favorite parts of the show, and everyone is laughing so loudly that Jared almost wishes they could wait outside for Stephen.

He turns and sees Jensen, standing amidst a gaggle of girls, and maybe it’s a trick of the light but it certainly seems like Jensen is glowing. At the very least, he must be backlit by some sort of preternatural spotlight or something. Jensen is a god, standing just a few feet away from Jared.

He can’t talk to the guy. What would he even say? Jensen is surrounded by well-wishers, basking in the glory of a job incredibly well done. What could Jared possibly add to that? Besides, Stephen is standing right here now and it seems discourteous to ditch his friend in favor of drooling all over said friend’s mortal enemy.

*  
Jared finally meets Jensen Ackles on the first day of school.

He’s thought about it, meeting Jensen around town randomly, just out on the street somewhere. In his brain, Jensen passes him and does a double take at the way the sun glints off of Jared’s tanned skin, just has to stop and get Jared’s number. He’s thought about it loads but he hasn’t really bothered planning for the actuality of coming face-to-face with him. The school bathrooms are far less impressive than Jared’s innumerable fantasies.

He’s washing his hands, shaking the water off - it’s better for the environment and also he’s lazy - when the door opens. Jared looks into the mirror and promptly freezes as the meticulously-coiffed Jensen fucking Ackles strolls in at Jared’s back, humming under his breath.

In his summer research - social media stalking, whatever - of Jensen, Jared knows that he’s starting his final year of high school and he’s planning to go to college in New York. He may also know that Jensen’s best friend is Misha Collins, who posts way too much political commentary on his Tumblr. Jensen prefers inspirational quotes from plays and books, posting them religiously to his Twitter and Instagram accounts. His Facebook is locked so Jared doesn’t know as much about that, which is probably for the best now that he thinks about it.

It only takes a second for Jensen to look up, to notice Jared’s reflection staring back at him, and he breaks into the most beautiful, eye-crinkling smile Jared has ever seen on a human person. “Oh, hey,” Jensen says, easy as anything.

Jared, admittedly, makes a strange squawking noise while water drips onto the toes of his brand new shoes. It’s maybe not his best work.

“You alright, man?” Jensen asks, his forehead scrunching in concern.

Nodding, Jared finally finds the wherewithal to roll his shoulders and blink. Words are swirling around in his brain, none of them making much sense, until a sentence manages to fall out of his mouth. “I know who you are.”

As far as first impressions go, it's not awesome.

But Jensen smiles and casually tucks his hands into his pockets. “Oh? Does my reputation precede me then?”

Jared can feel his cheeks heating as he wipes his damp fingers on the thighs of his jeans. “No. Well, I mean yes. I mean, I saw you on stage this summer. I was there for my friend Stephen. Stephen Amell? He was in your show and so my friend Chad and I went to see him, so of course we also saw you. You were amazing, really so, so good and…and for the love of everything please say something so I'll stop rambling like an absolute idiot.”

The laugh that Jensen barks as he throws his head back and claps his hands together sounds like magic. It is lilting and deep and seems to tinkle like piano chords, dancing from the long line of his exposed throat. Jesus, Jared’s inner monologue is less poetic and more horrifyingly corny.

“I like you,” Jensen states simply. “What's your name?”

Jared turns his attention to his own feet and barely manages to whisper, “Jared.”

 

Consumed in a web of his own humiliation, he doesn't hear Jensen moving closer. He jumps like a frightened rabbit when Jensen’s hand closes over his wrist. “It's nice to meet you, Jared.”

 

A comforting warmth seeps from Jensen' skin to Jared's, soothing his frustration and quelling his anxiety enough for Jared to look up again, to meet Jensen' unwavering gaze in the mirror. “Thanks,” he says, cringing immediately. “I mean it's nice to meet you, too. Fuck.”

Jensen laughs again, squeezing Jared's wrist before releasing it. “You are doing wonders for my ego, which some might argue isn’t the best thing as it is already massively inflated to the point of being dangerous.”

 

Jared has to chuckle at that, his shoulders easing a bit when Jensen's hand lands there for another reassuring pat. “I guess I'm a fan,” he admits, though he knows it's silly. Jensen is just a student, like Jared is, who happens to be good at singing, dancing, and acting. It doesn't make him a celebrity or anything.

“Can I tell you a secret? I do like fans,” Jensen winks, turning until he can look at Jared directly, rather than talking to his reflection in the mirror. “But, and I’m not actually kidding, dude, I like friends more.”

With that, he steps into the stall and closes the door, leaving Jared to gape like a fool and then flee like a lunatic.

All in all, it's a less-than-stellar first meeting.

** September-October **

While it's embarrassing to think about that first day, more than a month ago now, Jared still has a hard time faulting himself for his initial reaction to Jensen. He's pretty magnetic and, though he'd like to say he shook off that first meeting and made a smooth transition into the next one, his life isn't exactly a fairy tale at all times.

He stumbles through a few more brief encounters with Jensen, always in the hallways at school and always when they're with their friends and barely have time for more than a wave or the occasional wink, in Jensen' case. Jared likes the winks a lot but they do tend to send him tripping into Stephen or knocking Chad into a wall. His friends grumble about it and tease him mercilessly because they're terrible friends.

Tonight, Chad is throwing a party in his basement and, until the moment Jensen walks through the door – twenty minutes late, fashionable, and flanked by a handful of friends Jared recognizes but hasn't met – he didn't even realize that Chad and Jensen knew each other. 

If the way Stephen grunts at Jared's side is any indication, he is not pleased with Jensen's arrival, but Jared has already had a beer and a half and he can't be bothered with Stephen at the moment.

“Do you think I should go say something to her?” Stephen is asking, but Jared has no idea what, or whom, he's talking about.

He's just glanced up to find Jensen looking back at him from across the room. Jared slips into his typical, paralyzed state, but it only lasts a second this time. “Mmhm,” he hums at Stephen while he lifts his drink, holding Jensen' eye while he takes a swallow, careful to wrap his lips suggestively around the mouth of the bottle. It's possible he's imagining things, but he's nearly certain he sees Jensen' eyes dart down to Jared's throat before he pushes his hat away from his eyes and winks. 

Then he's off again, folding into the crowd with a hand clutching the back of Misha's jacket.

Later, when Jared is leaning against the pool table, still half-heartedly attempting to help Stephen find the courage to talk to a senior girl, Jensen walks over and derails the last thread of interest Jared had in the subject he didn’t care anything about in the first place. 

Jensen seems completely unaware of this bitter rivalry between he and Stephen – which, to be fair, Stephen would just as soon punch himself in the face than cause waves with Jensen because, even though he'd never admit it, he desperately wants to be Jensen Ackles, just like everybody else – and he smiles at both of them. He thrusts a hand forward in greeting, tilting his head a bit when Stephen doesn't immediately reach out to shake it.

Stephen does manage a curt nod and smiles painfully, as though he can't help it but really wishes he could. “So you’re the star again,” he says, finally taking Jensen' hand in his. 

Being as the autumn production is not a musical, Stephen had no interest in trying out this time. Jared talked him into it so that Jared would have his own excuse for auditioning. At least Stephen landed another significant supporting role. Jared is an extra. Whatever, it’s going to give him at least a couple more hours a week to creepily crush on Jensen from not-as-afar. It’s worth it.

“Thanks, man,” Jensen answers as though it was some sort of compliment, shaking Stephen's hand even as his focus shifts. “Hi, Jared,” he says, voice bright and smile soft.

“Hi, Jensen,” Jared responds with a nod, easier than their other greetings have been. The alcohol has formed a cozy, little blanket for all of Jared's insecurities to hide beneath this time. It's very fuzzy and warm. Jared is a little buzzed. “I didn't expect to see you tonight.”

Jensen shrugs slightly, tucking his hands into his pockets and rocking a bit on his heels. “Well I knew you'd be here, didn't I?”

Shameless. Completely shameless and uninhibited, that's what Jensen is. While Jared's mother has always called him her little charmer, he wonders if his savvy would even land anywhere near Jensen's. It's truly impressive, usually to a crippling degree, for Jared.

“Did you?” he asks, taking another drink and smiling around the bottle as he looks up at Jensen through lowered lashes.

It works. He doesn't even realize he's trying to do anything, but he succeeds in causing a bright flush to race up the sides of Jensen' neck, if only for a moment, before Jensen clears his throat and brings it back under control.

Jared thinks he hears Stephen mutter, “Oh, for fuck's sake,” under his breath as he walks away, but he doesn't check for certain because Jensen is sliding into Stephen's vacated spot next to Jared.

“So, Jay man, are you actually going to talk to me tonight or are you going to do this awkward, shy dance all evening?” His eyes sparkle in the low lighting when he crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hand under his arm until he can poke Jared's bicep. “Not that I have a problem with this coy thing you're doing now. It's very cute.”

They are flirting. Something in the back of Jared's brain is aware of it, but if he focuses on that, he's going to lose every bit of nerve he's been carefully dulling with beer since Jensen walked through the door.

“It's not my fault you're incredibly intimidating,” Jared defends. “I'm not the one who made you so,” he flounders for the right term and settles on, “you,” like the wordsmith that he isn't.

It earns him a laugh, a genuine Jensen laugh. “Do you use that line on all the boys, Jared?”

“Just the perfect ones,” Jared answers, squaring his shoulders with pride.

This time, Jensen is the one looking up through lowered lashes, cheeks pleasantly pink. “You're more intimidating than you think, Jared Padalecki,” he finally says.

Jared's laugh is huge, loud and obnoxious and surprising even to himself, as he claps his hands over his mouth to hold some of it back. “What d'you mean?” he asks when the few people standing nearby stop staring at them.

Jensen just shakes his head and nudges Jared's with his shoulder. “It's nothing. So, you're new around here, yeah? Where did you come from? Who were you before I knew you?”

Clearing away the first answer – _I was no one before you knew me, Jensen_ – because it's so awful, even Jared knows not to say it out loud, he narrows his gaze to the far wall and thinks through an actual response. “I don't know who I am now, let alone who I was then.” He says it as though it means something, as though ‘then’ wasn’t three months ago, as though he’s not sixteen and actually has some depth to his thinking already.

Though Jensen purses his lips, as though he's truly considering Jared's insightful response, his eyes are still sparkling with laughter. “Very philosophical, young one.”

If he's honest, the compliment warms Jared all the way to his toes. Or it could be this beer, he supposes. He tilts the bottle toward Jensen because it seems like he should offer him a drink at this juncture, even if he doesn't know why it seems like that.

Jensen just shakes his head. “I have to babysit in the morning.”

Babysit. He has to babysit. He can sing, dance, and act. He looks impeccable at all times. He also spends his free time with children. He is, as far as Jared can tell, absolutely perfect.

Something holds him back from saying as much but he mysteriously finds plenty of other things to talk to Jensen about throughout the night. They find a quiet corner of the room, as quiet as it can be with Chad's remixes blaring and people drunkenly shouting at one another randomly, and they talk until Misha comes to collect Jensen while people filter out of the basement at the night's end.

“I'm glad you were here tonight,” Jared says when they're standing, shifting and grasping at the appropriate way to say their good nights.

Jensen lifts onto his toes, hands tight on Jared's shoulders, and presses a firm kiss to his cheekbone. “So am I,” he whispers against Jared's ear, and then he's gone.

*

Weeks later, Jared can still feel Jensen's lips against his face every time he sees Jensen in the halls at school or at play practice in the afternoons. It's easier to smile at him now, though he does still trip into Chad when they pass by occasionally. It's because he's clumsy, not because he's literally falling for Jensen. Really. 

Today, Jared is innocently walking to Geometry, tired of waiting for Chad to finish his lunch, when he hears Misha's voice behind him. He doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but it's difficult not to hear what is literally right behind him. If he were slightly bolder, he would turn and say hello. He doesn't.

“You're going to pass out if you don't eat all day.”

Jensen huffs, sarcastic without saying a word, and Jared smiles in spite of himself. “First of all, I can survive without lunch one day, you idiot. And there's nothing I can do about it now, is there? Lunch is over and rehearsals start at four. I won't have time to get anything, so I'll just have to muddle through until later.”

“You wouldn't have to muddle through if you actually remembered to bring your lunch instead of leaving it on the counter at home every damn day,” Misha points out, sounding to Jared as though he believes Jensen to be completely devoid of all common sense.

“I had to study for this test.”

Jared wants so badly to stop, to turn and ask why Jensen didn't study last night, what else captured his attention, what he was busy with, but he's fairly certain they aren't even aware he's there, so interrupting seems rude. Also, it's none of his business, even though he kind of desperately wants it to be.

He turns the corner and scowls only to himself when Jensen and Misha walk on past the hall, their voices bickering and fading with the distance.

*

It's probably strange that he can't get the idea of Jensen being hungry out of his head for the rest of the day. He imagines his tummy growling, his face pulling into a grumpy frown as he rubs it to calm it down. There is little reasonable chance that Jensen will actually pass out from skipping one meal, but Jared can't stop the image of him, sprawled on the stage in an awkward heap, pale and unresponsive, in his mind.

There's a burger joint a few minutes away from the school. Stephen wouldn't dream of leaving early, but convincing Chad to skip their final hour isn't hard with the promise of food hanging over his head.

Of course, he leaves Jared there, explaining that it's closer for him to walk home from here and he doesn't actually care if Jensen Ackles eats dinner until midnight. Chad is an amazing friend but sometimes a terrible human being, Jared thinks fondly as he walks back to the school.

By the time he gets there, carry out bag clutched tightly in his white-knuckled grip, the only students left milling about are the football team and the drama department. Without Chad, Jared's nerves are his only companion as he pulls open the doors to the theater wing and begins his search for Jensen. 

He has to ask three different people if they've seen Jensen before he finds him. His face is blazing with embarrassment and uncertainty of it all, still struggling to find a reasonable explanation doing this, for bringing Jensen food. 

Jensen looks amazing, sitting on a chair in the massive, communal dressing room, mouthing the words he is silently reading. Clearing his throat, Jared knocks a knuckle against the door and smiles apologetically when Jensen startles.

“Jared,” he grins, hand pressed over his chest as he made his way to his feet. “What’s up, man?”

If Jared thought he'd magically know what to say when the time came, he was sadly mistaken. Jensen looks tired, eyes slightly duller and shoulders sagging a bit more than usual. His smile is still bright, but Jared can't help thinking it looks a little forced, like he is wearing a mask that is slipping just a bit to the side.

“Chad and I skipped out for a late snack,” he lies just a bit, lifting the bag in his hand like a dead weight. “I had some left over. Thought you might be hungry.”

Taking a step forward, Jensen's smile inches higher. “You heard Misha lecturing me in the hall today, didn't you?” he asks. “I saw you walking in front of us. You, um, you're actually pretty hard to miss.”

It could be a simple statement but it feels sort of like a compliment. Jared can feel himself blush at it, whatever the intent. “I'm not trying to coddle you or anything. If you don't want it, I can take it home to my mom or something. I just thought-,”

He's interrupted by the warm press of Jensen's lips against his own. Right here in the dressing room, their fingers joined on a greasy paper bag, and Jensen's other hand resting easily on Jared's waist, they are actually kissing. It isn't a quick good bye peck on the cheek, either. It's Jensen moving his lips against Jared's, dry but sure as anything.

Finally, Jensen breaks it, pulling himself back and taking the bag from Jared's slack grip, but keeping his hold on Jared's waist firm. “Thank you for thinking of me like this,” he whispers into the space between them, looking smaller than Jared has ever seen him.

He is Jensen Ackles, for fuck's sake. He is bold and dramatic and larger than life. Everyone knows that. At the moment, though, he's just a kid, vulnerable and stressed out and maybe a bit hungry. Jared hadn't realized until this moment how superhuman he's made Jensen out to be in his own head. Even more surprising is the fact that Jared likes this pliant, human version even better.

“I'm always thinking of you,” Jared admits without thinking and then blinks when he replays the words in his own head. He can feel his neck flushing as he steps away from Jensen and offers him an awkward wave. “I'll let you get back to your script. You'll want to eat that before it gets cold, I'm sure. I’ll just be. I’ll see you on stage. Yeah.”

Before his eyes, Jared watches Jensen nod and square his shoulders, raking his fingers through his hair as he assumes the persona Jared hadn't realized was anything other than his complete self. It's strange.

He is almost to the door when Jensen calls his name. When he stops and turns, Jensen is sitting in his chair again, eyes a bit brighter as he winks. “I'm usually thinking about you, too.”

Jared's feet don't touch the ground again during the entire rehearsal, he doesn't think. 

He tells Stephen about it on the way home, even the ‘walking on air’ part and just rolls his eyes when Stephen says, “That’s not actually physically possible, Jared.”

Jared isn't sure why he's friends with someone who has no sense of romantic hyperbole, but Jensen kissed him today so he can love Stephen in spite of his sensibility for the moment.

** November-December **

For awhile, Jared tried to tell himself that it was just a kiss, that it didn’t have to mean anything at all, but it’s kind of turned into something anyway.

It’s loosened any remaining tension between he and Jensen, turned into Jensen taking every opportunity to pat Jared’s shoulder or back when they pass each other in the halls, winking at him across the sea of other student when he can’t. It’s turned into sitting together when they’re not on stage at practice, talking and flirting and being generally obnoxious to everyone in their vicinity. It’s turned into more time spent making out in dark corners at parties and, possibly most shockingly of all, it’s turned into hashtags and high school noteriety via circulating photos on social media.

The first time someone asks if they can take a picture of Jared and Jensen together at play practice, Jared is more than excited to say, “Sure.” Being photographed with Jensen is far from the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, even if Jensen looks all fancy and professional in his tailored suit while Jared is dressed like a cater waiter in a cheap bow tie. Jensen wraps his arms around Jared, one at his back and the other across his chest, and makes a weirdo face that has Jared smiling fondly, stupidly, instinctively. Of course, he doesn’t know he looked like a swooning idiot until it pops up on his Instagram feed, #theaterkids #otp #padackles #j2. After that, approximately fifty pictures of the pair of them show up on social media, some are happy or goofy poses in costume and with other cast members and others are not so much.

“My friends all think you’re the hottest couple in the world,” Megan informs him, glaring at him over the top of her phone as though it’s Jared’s fault that people from school are talking about him. “It’s so gross.”

She’s in seventh grade over at the middle school, in another building completely from Jensen and him, but she flips the phone around so Jared can see the picture that’s been cross-posted to her friend’s Facebook before she makes an exaggerated gagging noise. 

Being as Jared’s mom is sitting right beside his sister, she sees the picture before Jared can fully process it, her eyes growing wide as she snatches the phone from her daughter to get a closer look. “There are things a mother never wants to see her son do. You’re doing damn near all of them in this picture. What is. Is he trying to actually eat your face?”

There was a time when Jared thought that embarrassing himself in front of Jensen was the worst that could ever, would ever happen to him. As it turns out, he was wrong.

“What does this J-2 thing mean?” his mother asks, returning the phone to Megan before twisting to give Jared her full attention.

The thing is, Jared doesn’t know. It just started happening, about a month ago or so. The other cast and crew from the play started posting pictures and hashtagging them _J2_ and sometimes _Padackles_. It’s a bit weird - they’re not linked in the play at all, Jared doesn’t even have any lines - but catching them off guard, usually in costume but not always, has become a bit of a challenge for everyone. He never knows when the pictures will show up, just that he’ll be in them with Jensen and they’ll be tagged like some Hollywood tabloid couple.

“Mackenzie said that Danneel told her that Jared and Jensen are the power couple of the play. They’re everyone’s OTP, basically. If they weren’t such theater nerds, they’d run everything,” Megan says, smirking when Jared flips her off while their mom isn’t looking.

Mackenzie is Jensen’s little sister and Danneel is their step-sister, a year older than Jared and one younger than Jensen. Jared thought he liked her just fine but now he’s not so sure. The fact that Megan talks to them about their collective brothers when Jared and Jensen are not around is weird, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like thinking about even people he doesn’t know very well considering Jensen and him a couple now.

*

Jared worries that things will fall apart when the play comes to an end, that Jensen won’t have time for him anymore or that they won’t have anything in common. It’s ridiculous, of course it is, but he’s sixteen. He worries about everything.

It's been about two months, officially, though Jensen won't call it dating because he says that sounds silly. He prefers to call it _seeing each other_ , and Jared likes to remind him that they are the exact same thing. It causes Jensen to go all grouchy at the corners of his lips and eyes, which only makes him that much cuter, so Jared is a fan of teasing.

Maybe if he thinks about that – Jensen' cute little grump face – he won't be so nervous about tonight. He's met Jensen' family before, usually at school events, but this is dinner at Jensen' house and it feels important. Jensen has double and triple checked Jared's list of favorite foods, made certain that he isn't allergic to anything, and insisted that it is going to be absolutely perfect.

Jared doesn't doubt it. It's Jensen' house. When does Jensen ever do anything that doesn't turn out less than absolutely perfect?

So Jared is a bit anxious, especially since his brother reminded him that being introduced to the family is quite a big deal just before he left the house. That was helpful. Really, cheers, so glad he came home from college for this specific weekend.

He has flowers for Jensen's mom and a box of candy for his sisters. He begged his own mom to let him bring a bottle of bourbon or something for Jensen's stepdad, but she'd put her foot down at allowing her sixteen-year-old son to take alcohol to his boyfriend's house.

The point is that he is ready to be the picture of perfection that Jensen's boyfriend should be, ready to show his family that Jared is worthy of someone as particular as Jensen, so it's a bit of a shock when Jensen’s mother opens the front door for him, her hair flying away from her loose ponytail, her apron smudged, and a shriek tears through the house so loudly that Jared cringes immediately.

“Oh, stop being such a fucking diva about it, Danni!” he hears Jensen shout. 

Until now, he's only ever heard Jensen swear when he's been drinking or they've been making out in a corner, whispered words under his breath when Jared grinds a hand or a thigh against Jensen's dick in the heat of a stolen moment. He's never uttered so much as a questionable word in front of an authority figure, but his mother only rolls her eyes and tilts her head back, as though she's heard all of this before, as though this Jensen is the only one she knows.

“For god's sake, Jensen, what is swearing at her going to accomplish?” she calls and then turns her attention to Jared, taking a step back and motioning for him to come in with a warm, inviting smile. “I'm sorry, Jared. Please come in.”

“Donna, he's being awful!” Danneel shrieks as she runs into the room and skids to a stop beside her stepmom. Her cheeks and neck are splotchy but not wet. Her bottom lip wobbles for sympathy but even Jared can tell she’s nowhere near crying. Given his own meager acting talent, he figures that says something. He’s certainly not going to call it out, though.

Theatrics must be a family trait, he thinks, allowing himself to smile a bit as Jensen's mother takes the gifts from Jared's arms and presses the box of candy into Danneel’s arms. “Take these to your room, please. And don't let Mac have any until after dinner or she won't eat anything.” She kisses the distraught girl on the cheek and pats her back. “And if you're going to pretend to cry, at least have Jensen show you how to produce actual tears. It's much more convincing.”

“Jensen, your mom says stop being an asshole!” Danneel screams as she runs from the room again. “And put some pants on! Your stupid boyfriend's here!”

Jensen's mom chuckles and shakes her head, as if to say ' _what’re ya gonna do?_ '. “I'm sorry, Jared. I would say this is an unusual day, but I don't make a habit of lying to our dinner guests. Welcome to our home, though. The flowers are lovely and the girls will have the candy devoured before morning, I'm sure. Thank you.”

For the first time since Jensen invited Jared to dinner, he feels himself relaxing. He was expecting a family of peculiar robots, if he's honest, an entire group of perfectionists like Jensen, but there is immense comfort in knowing that isn't the case.

“Jared's here?” Jensen's voice shouts, coming ever closer until he rounds the corner so quickly that he nearly runs into the wall. “Jared's here,” he repeats, more as a statement this time, with a bright smile as his eyes land on Jared, still wearing his coat in the entry. “Why has no one invited you in yet?” he asks, considering Jared still standing there in his coat before turning an accusatory look toward his mother.

“I would have, if you weren't so busy being awful to your sister.”

Just as Donna had done a moment earlier, Jensen rolls his eyes. The resemblance between them is quite striking, Jared thinks. “I wasn't being awful to her. She's being dramatic.”

“In this house?” his mother asks, her sarcasm thick and her eyes wide. “I don't believe it for a second.”

Jensen sticks his tongue out at her, laughing when she turns toward what Jared assumes is the kitchen. “Can I take your coat?” Jensen asks, flicking his hair from his eyes and holding out a hand.

Jared slips it over his shoulders, letting his eyes rake over Jensen’s worn jeans and wide-necked t-shirt. It is far more relaxed than anything Jared has seen him in, even at parties, but it still manages to look like Jensen made some effort. It also makes Jared's blazer look more than a little out of place, so he slips that off, too.

Jensen just smiles, grabbing Jared's arm and dragging him down the hall. “Let's go to my room until dinner is ready.”

In his mind, Jared always assumed that Jensen' house is impeccably cleaned and decorated. He would have never imagined it to be as second-hand cozy, the atmosphere nice but far from designer or modern. It’s cluttered, just like Jared’s place is, little things here and there, spilling out of bedrooms as they pass.

Jared is a bit worried that he might trip and embarrass himself, but they make it to a closed door at the end of the hall without any incidents.

Jensen grips the doorknob with one hand and Jared's wrist with the other. “I meant to clean it before you came over, but things got a bit hectic around here.” 

To say that Jensen's room is a disaster is a kindness, really. It's obvious that he's taken great care in affixing the posters and plaques to the walls, but the floor is a death trap if Jared has ever seen one. He doubts Jensen has any clothes left to hang in his closets with all the ones littering his floor, not to mention the books and other odds and ends strewn about the room. His bed is unmade, the desk piled high with hair products, school books, and who knows what else.

“Wow,” is all Jared can manage to say through his surprise.

“You can come in,” Jensen says, easily navigating the mess by walking over top of it. 

“How?” Jared asks, looking to his feet.

But Jensen seems nonplussed. “It's just clothes, soft stuff,” he insists. “You're not going to hurt anything but my feelings if you don't close your mouth and stop judging.”

“I'm not,” Jared begins to defend and then stops himself short. Shifting his attention back to Jensen, solely to Jensen, he steps forward and says, “I'm not judging you, I promise. I'm surprised, but not judging. I really don't care what your room looks like.”

For the first time since Jared arrived, Jensen looks a bit embarrassed. “I'm not a fraud,” Jensen says suddenly, moving past Jared to shut the door before he continues. “I know that's what it looks like, with who I am at school and what you see here. I know that.” 

He's so far from the confident giant Jared has come to know, looking small and insecure as he waits for Jared to say something.

“I don't think you're a fraud,” Jared says, hoping that he doesn't crush any of Jensen' important things as he walks toward the bed. He also hopes he doesn't trip and fall. “You're human,” he says when he finally reaches Jensen near the bed. “Sometimes that gets messy. It makes sense that you have a place to be a messy human.” When Jensen' mouth drops, Jared wonders if he's said something wrong. “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Jensen says quickly. “No, I just had this speech prepared, all about how there are two sides, sometimes more, to people and it's okay to think image is important and present yourself in a professional manner, but it's also okay to have a place to relax a bit, but you,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he tucks his hands into the sides Jared's jeans, “you already get it. I should have known.”

He's glowing. Jared must be glowing, the heat from Jensen's mouth against his and the pride of being allowed to see the sides of Jensen that he doesn't want anyone else to see is more than he expected when he showed up for a simple dinner. His brother was right, Jensen inviting him here _is_ a big deal.

*

Jared is not ashamed to admit that he is a Christmas guy, that it’s one of his favorite times of the year, the _most_ wonderful, you might say. This year, he spends the entire trip back to San Antonio to stay with his grandparents and see his dad whining and moping and grouching until his sister leans over the front seat of the car to smack him in the head. 

“You deserved it,” is his mother’s only maternal response as she casts a sidelong glance at him through the rear mirror. 

Back in June, when this same car was pulling out of town in search of a better, happier life, Jared thought he couldn’t wait to get back to his friends and hang out with his creature comforts for the holidays. It’s weird how completely things can flip in six months, he thinks.

_You’ve only been gone two hours and I miss you already. It’s really stupid._

Maybe, but Jared smiles at Jensen’s text anyway and whines again on accident. It’s going to be a long week, the longest of his life. Maybe Jensen isn’t the only dramatic one between them.

** January-February **

Their first fight comes out of nowhere and knocks Jared for a loop because it is, in his humble opinion, completely ridiculous.

The party is at Jared’s this time, which is strange enough in itself. It’s not a rager, not an assembly of so many cliques and drunken stupidity like the ones at Chad’s house. There were only about twenty people here to start with and they mostly sat around, watching movies and playing weird board games that Jared’s mom left for them before she took Megan out for the night. The fact that she left Jared alone with his friends is appreciated but knowing that she could pop back home at any time has kept the debauchery to a minimum.

Now Stephen, Danneel, and her best friend, Genevieve, are the only ones left. Jensen is sitting in the corner of the couch while Jared sprawls over the rest of it. His fingers feel amazing in Jared’s hair, lulling Jared to near sleep when Jensen says, “Auditions start Monday.”

Jared doesn’t say anything, figures the conversation is between Jensen and Stephen. In retrospect, that’s silly because Jensen and Stephen rarely have conversations that don’t involve Jared. It’s such a ridiculous rivalry but, at this point, Jared just figures it is what it will always be.

“We always go out for pizza after,” Jensen adds, poking Jared in the head with his finger until Jared clues back in and looks up into his face.

In his defense, it’s distracting. Jensen’s face is a general and constant distraction. Jared figures he can’t be blamed for blanking his response for a second. If the way Jensen’s mouth turns down on the corners is any indication, it’s not appreciated. It’s not Jared’s fault Jensen’s face looks like that, though.

“Congratulations on your tradition?” Jared finally responds when he realizes that he’s not sure what Jensen wants from him here. 

Jensen rolls his eyes and pokes Jared again. It’s annoying but also it’s Jensen. Jensen always gets a pass.

“Do you know what part you’re reading for yet?” 

The honest answer is no, because Jared’s not planning on auditioning for the play. Acting is Jensen’s thing. The only reason Jared bothered last fall was to spend more time around Jensen. What does he need the play for now? He already has what he wants, which is maybe a bit of a douche thought, but Jared is a bit of a douchebag sometimes. He can admit that inside his own head.

What he actually says aloud - “I don’t even know what show they’re doing?” - is worse than anything he could think, if Jensen’s stricken face is anything to go by. To soothe the tension, he quickly adds, “I’m not a musical kind of guy, I don’t think.” It doesn’t work.

“Yeah, but you have to,” Jensen counters, as though that’s an actual argument, as though it means anything.

His knee is sharp against the back of Jared’s head, nudging him until Jared has to sit to get away from him. “Jesus, Jensen, what the fuck?” he growls, holding his skull as he angles an angry look Jensen’s way.

It’s such a fiction-moment thing, the way everything in the room seems to stop. Obviously, it doesn’t actually. There’s still a movie playing on the television and it couldn’t care any less about the real life drama forming here. Stephen, Danneel, and Gen do stop, though, conversations dying as their eyes blatantly fix on the pair staring each other down on the couch.

“You have to audition, you idiot,” Jensen insists. “People are expecting you to audition.”

Until this moment, Jared has seen Jensen’s ardently constructed image as somewhat adorable. He likes knowing that he gets to see Jensen underneath the front he projects, maybe kind of gets off on being one of the few who know the guy beneath the slight facade. He’s not phony, Jensen isn’t, but the way he’s perceived by virtually everyone is important to him. Jared has never seen anything _wrong_ with that, until this moment.

Jared laughs. “I don’t think anyone is going to notice I’m not there, man. I had no lines last time because I’m a terrible actor,” Jared reminds him, shaking his head as though Jensen is being ridiculous. Because, well, he is being ridiculous.

Jensen scoffs, his arms flailing to his sides a bit. “It’s a goddamn high school play, Jay. Terrible actors are par for the course.”

“Oh, fuck off, Ackles,” Stephen chimes in, earning himself a jab in the ribs from Genevieve, seated quietly at his side. He cringes away, scoots across the floor out of her reach and closer to Jared before he says, “Sorry we’re not all Jensen Ackles, Lord of the Stage, but seriously, fuck off.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Jensen fires back, his eyes never leaving Jared’s face. He’s grouchy a not-small portion of the time, especially when he’s tired, but Jared has never seen him angry, not like this. If Jared was inclined to be in any way scared of Jensen, it would be intimidating. 

It’ll be funny when Jared thinks about it later, the evolution of Stephen. When Jared met him six or seven months ago, he was pretty quiet and kind of terrified of everything. Jensen was at the top of that list, if Jared is honest. Whether because he’s growing as a person or just because he’s an awesome friend, he’s forgotten to be afraid of fighting now. Or maybe he just sees it as a chance to vent his own frustrations on Jared’s behalf.

“Yeah, well, I’m talking to you,” he says, rising to his knees from his place on the floor.

Jared shakes his head and tears his eyes from Jensen long enough to catch Stephen’s eye. “Not your fight,” he says softly, trying his best to convey how much he does not want this to escalate any quicker. He’s not a great actor but he’s a stellar communicator if the way Stephen stands down is anything to go by, the way he sinks back to the floor and snaps his mouth shut. 

“It’s not a fight at all,” Jensen says, deflating. He reaches between them to rest a hand on Jared’s knee, his face softening automatically as Jared returns his attention to Jensen. “It’s just. Jared, come on, babe. This is our thing, right? It’s where we met. We’re J2, man.”

It’s almost convincing. To someone else, it might sound like a really good thing, but to Jared it just sounds kind of gross. “That’s what we are to you? A fucking hashtag? Because if that’s all this is, there are other J’s out there. You can go find another one.”

Body vibrating with the emotion of that statement, with the stung look in Jensen’s eyes, Jared stands from the couch and leaves the room without another glance back. Later, he’ll probably regret even suggesting that Jensen find someone else because, well, he absolutely could. He’s Jensen and people love him for that. Right now, though, Jared is too hyped on the moment to give one single shit.

It doesn’t occur to him until a few minutes later that he’s walked out on guests in his own home. He feels bad about it but too embarrassed to go back and apologize. Stephen will come find him soon enough, he’s sure, if he doesn’t punch Jensen first. Fuck, Jared hopes Stephen doesn’t punch Jensen in his pretty face. Angry as he is, he can’t forget Jensen’s face.

Stephen doesn’t show up, though. No one does. Jared’s mom pops in to congratulate him on not destroying her house while she was gone, her face contorting into confusion and concern when she stops to look at Jared.

“What happened, baby?” she asks, moving into the room and sinking to the mattress next to him. She wraps her arms around him and waits until his shoulders fall to kiss the side of his head. “Boys are dumb, huh?”

It’s so absurd that Jared can’t help snorting a laugh, a sobby, horrible sound that is nothing short of humiliating. He’s not a little kid, shouldn’t be burying his face in his mother’s neck while he cries over a fight with his boyfriend, but it was so stupid and he only made it worse. For all he knows, he doesn’t have a boyfriend anymore. 

*

In the end, Jared has to swallow his pride. Radio silence from Jensen on Saturday is the worst and Jared’s moping over it causes his mother to insist he go apologize and try to fix it before she has to spend another day with his long face and whiny voice. She’s a loving maternal figure, his mother is.

So he gathers his wounded ego and drags himself over to Jensen’s house on Saturday night. For the first time in months, he doesn’t even know if Jensen will be home or, better yet, if his entire family will be there, What if Jensen slams the door in his face? It can’t be worse, right? No, Jared thinks, that would definitely be worse.

It’s a good sign that Jensen’s car is the only one in the driveway when Jared parks, he thinks. He’s still not sure what he’s going to say but it will be easier if they don’t have an audience in Jensen’s parents.

He’s gearing up, steeling himself, for round two when Jensen opens the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he says before Jared gets any words out at all.

“What?”

Jensen sighs, hands tucking into the pockets of his oversized hoodie. “Come in,” he says, backing up to allow Jared room, watching his bare toes while Jared unwraps his scarf and hangs up his coat. The house is quiet, Jensen is quiet, everything is uncomfortably quiet. 

“I’m sorry I walked away from you,” Jared finally says when he turns back around, when he can’t stand the silence anymore. He spent long enough feeling awkward around Jensen. They’re past that now. 

“You’re not a,” Jensen stops himself and runs one hand over his mussed hair. “Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder and leading Jared back to his room.

Jared has known Jensen since August. He’s never seen him in track pants and a hoodie. He’s never seen him looking so disheveled. It’s a sickness that he’s kind of turned on by it, he thinks as they step into Jensen’s mess of a bedroom.

Jensen shuts the door and smiles a bit when Jared looks at it skeptically. “We’re alone,” he promises, moving past Jared to sink onto his unmade bed. “You’re not a hashtag to me,” he insists, looking up through his stupidly long lashes, seeming small and unkempt. “Look, man, you know me. I like attention, obviously. I thought the high of being on the stage was the best thing in the world, but.”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and, suddenly, it’s the most important sentence in the world to Jared. He forgets that he should probably be giving Jensen his space as he sits down, tucking a leg under himself as he gives Jensen his full attention. “But what?”

He blushes. Jensen Ackles blushes and fidgets and looks at his hands. He mumbles something Jared can’t understand and then looks suitably annoyed when he has to repeat it. “I like getting attention with you more,” he says on a huff. “I told you I like having fans, remember? When we first met, I told you that. I’m probably always going to like knowing people admire me, even if that makes me an asshole.”

“It doesn’t,” Jared assures him, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true. What is true is that Jared doesn’t _care_ if Jensen comes off as an asshole sometimes. “Dude, everybody likes knowing that.”

Jensen shrugs, reaches for Jared’s hand and tangles their fingers together. “Yeah, well as it turns out, I like sharing it with you more than I like having it all on me. I mean, I don’t know, I just love knowing that people wish they were us.”

“And it’s not the same if we’re not in the play together?” Jared asks because, well, they’re together all the time but even he has noticed that they don’t get as much attention since the last show ended. He doesn’t care as much as Jensen obviously does, but he can admit that it’s true.

“It’s just. I don’t know. That’s my domain, ya know? You might think I’m awesome all the time.” He stops and winks, an arrogant grin in place that is purposely fake enough to make Jared laugh, then lets it fall before he squeezes Jared’s hand. “Everybody doesn’t. Outside my world, people think I’m a big theater nerd. I am aware of that, even if I pretend I’m not. I don’t know, man, I just feel like I’m a king there.”

“And I’m your queen?” Jared asks, laughing at the wide eyes Jensen shoots him. “It’s fine. I’m good with being your queen. I’m proud of it, actually.”

“Yeah?” Jensen seems uncertain and that just won’t do. As much as Jared likes seeing Jensen behind the mask, he does really like larger-than-life, all-the-confidence-in-the-world Jensen, too. He wants to be the one that bolsters that side of Jensen’s self-image. 

So he leans forward and grabs him by the scruff of the neck, tugging him into a kiss that feels worlds more intense than normal. Maybe it’s because they’re making up or maybe it’s just because Jared’s good at communicating his feelings through action, but this kiss is the best kiss. Also maybe Jared is better at hyperbole than he is at anything else.

“Yeah,” he breathes when they finally break apart. “Yeah, I like it a lot,” he admits, taking note of Jensen’s hands now tucked under the hem of Jared’s shirt, resting cool against the heat of Jared’s belly. 

Jensen moves quickly, swinging a leg over Jared’s thighs and grinding down against the growing bulge in Jared’s pants. “Guess I’m not the only one that gets off on the attention, huh?”

“Guess not,” Jared admits, swallowing a lump of nerves before he goes on to confess, “I get off on everyone knowing you picked me.”

“Everybody wants what we have, yeah?” Jensen asks, his thumb running smooth over Jared’s lower lip, fire in his eyes as his hips move under the grip of Jared’s fingers. “Does it make me an exhibitionist? That I want them to see you like this? That I want everyone to know how fucking beautiful you are when you’re all turned on for me?”

He doesn’t talk like this, neither of them do. Most of the time, they grunt and moan and whimper into each other’s mouths, but they don’t talk much. That’s reserved for text messages and times when everyone is actually looking. As it turns out, Jensen has a mouth that is good for turning Jared’s brain to mush in a million different ways.

Jensen pushes him back on the bed, shoves at Jared’s shoulders until he goes willingly, raising his arms above his head so Jensen can pull his shirt off and toss it onto the other heaps of laundry piling up on the floor. He stays there, spread out and topless and ready, while Jensen strips his own hoodie off and adds it to the mess, dropping it so haphazardly that it almost looks planned. 

“Goddamn,” Jared sighs, his chest rising and falling with the exhale. Jensen is preening for him, stretching his back as he scratches his fingers over Jared’s stomach, wiggling on the cock he can no doubt feel growing undeniably harder with each movement. He’s putting on a show and he is the very best at it. 

It’s possible they’ve both watched too much porn but Jared could not be asked to give a shit less right now. He reaches out to hold Jensen’s hips, gripping as hard as he can and rotating his own up to meet the rhythm, forgetting that neither of them have a wealth of experience with this because it doesn’t matter in the least. 

“Mine,” he mumbles.

Jensen whines, a high, reedy sound from the back of his throat as he falls forward and whispers, “All yours,” against Jared’s mouth before plundering deep and with definite intent. “All mine,” he whispers, tweaking one of Jared’s nipples while biting at his earlobe.

If they hadn’t been sharing handjobs for awhile now, if there wasn’t a tiny hint of some contact before this moment, Jared would surely have come in his pants already. As it is, he’s barely holding out as they rut against each other without a care for anything else.

“This is how porn stars are born, ya know,” Jensen tells him, fingers fumbling to unbutton Jared’s jeans. “Wanting everyone to see how fucking good they are at turning someone out.” He waits until Jared lifts his hips, letting Jensen tug his pants down just far enough to free his cock, and then Jensen licks his lips. “Want ‘em all to know how fucking lucky I am to get this all to myself.”

Fuck if Jared doesn’t want that, too. He wants everyone in the theater department, everyone in their school, everyone in the world to know that this guy is his. He wants them to see that this Jensen, with his messy hair and rumpled clothes and disaster of a bedroom, still lets it all go to be with Jared. This Jensen doesn’t worry at all about anything but what they’re doing right here. Jared gets it, wants everyone to know it.

“We’re probably a hundred kinds of mentally unhealthy,” he says on a laugh, words catching when Jensen pulls his own pants down far enough to reveal a lack of underwear. He lets the elastic waistband sit just below his peach of an ass, his balls brushing the underside of Jared’s hard cock while they both hiss.

“Do you care?” Jensen asks, grabbing as much of their dicks as he can hold in one hand.

“Not even a little,” Jared admits, arching into the touch until he can barely breathe. 

He’s not worried anymore, not questioning whether or not he has a boyfriend still or if that boyfriend only likes him for his social media value. He’s not worried about a damn thing.

** March-April **

It happens again, just like before, but this time they’re ready for it. 

Jared’s role in the musical is minimal, which is for the best considering how much of a triple threat he is not. Jensen has the lead and Stephen is second, much to his chagrin, but their rapport is palpably great. Jared would be jealous of how much onstage chemistry his boyfriend and his best friend have if he didn’t know he and Jensen were hotter offstage.

The hashtags start up again when Danneel posts a picture of them to her Instagram, locking lips in front of the cast list. She tags it #kingandqueen and it sticks. Some of the response is vile, downright hateful, but Jared is surprisingly unbothered by it. Jensen develops a new tactic for dealing with cyberbullying so it’s all fine by Jared; they can bring it on, for all he cares.

Every night after practice, they drive out to Jensen’s dad’s property - an old farm that’s been in the family for forty years and will probably be taken over by Jensen’s older brother soon - where they park near the small pond his dad built last year. Jared isn’t sure Jensen’s dad even knows they’re there, very much hopes he doesn’t, but he likes that they’re alone and they won’t get caught.

They thumb through their Instagram and Facebook feeds, smiling at the photos that have been captured for that day, and laughing at the hashtags people have chosen to use. They like and share a lot of them before Jared starts looking for the bad comments, the trolls and the insecure, hateful, bigoted ones. He reads them out while Jensen plays with Jared dick, sucking until Jared sees stars and stroking him with sure, skilled hands when he wants to offer his own sarcastic commentary.

When Jared can’t focus on both activities simultaneously anymore, he drops his phone onto the floorboard of the car and lays Jensen out on the backseat, touching and licking and rubbing against him while Jensen tells him how fucking hot they are together, how good they are, how right. He talks shit about all of the bullies, the kind of shit neither of them would say in person because, well, none of those assholes have the guts to say it to their faces, either. 

“Fuck,” Jensen growls when Jared bares down on him, their pants around their ankles and their cocks gliding wet against each other. 

“That’s it?” Jared teases, his hand pushing Jensen’s sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Nothing else to say about us against the world?”

When Jared’s dick ghosts over Jensen’s hole, he gasps and grabs a handful of Jared’s hair to hang on. “This isn’t about them anymore,” he declares.

Jared is in violent agreement. They both talk a lot about liking the attention and wanting everyone to admire them but, in the end, it’s only about this, about them, and it’s the maybe the only thing Jared cares about perfecting as much as Jensen does.

** May-June **

Jared has learned a lot about Jensen during the course of the school year. He's learned that Jensen pushes himself until he reaches a breaking point and then he snaps at everyone. He's learned that it's not personal and he just has to wait it out because he's also learned that Jensen will apologize and make it up to him eventually, usually in a sexy way that still makes him feel like a clumsy colt on new legs every time. He's learned that a lot of people want o know Jensen, wants to be just a little closer to him, but Jensen only allows that kind of access to Misha and Jared. 

Most of all, though, Jared has learned that he's going to be lost when Jensen goes off to college. 

Now that he's finished high school, just tonight with a speech that had everyone in both tears of laughter and emotion, the reality that has been looming the last few months is here, hovering over the air at the party Jensen's mom has thrown him to celebrate not only a successful completion of one chapter in Jensen' life, but the exciting beginning of the next chapter. The small house is crammed full of friends and classmates, family all around, laughter and music filling in the spaces between conversations. 

“You alright, man?” Jared asks, finding Stephen in a corner by himself.

He nods and sips from his cup of punch. “Maybe I can finally get a lead now,” he says with a rueful smile.

Obviously, Jared's favorite developing relationship this year has been his own with Jensen, but watching Jensen slowly draw Stephen out of himself, out of his competitive dislike of Jensen and into a friendship based on mutual admiration, has been pretty fantastic. Stephen won't let himself say so, neither will Jensen really, but they're going to miss each other. 

“You're going to be a star, too, Stephen,” Jared predicts, offering him a fist to bump.

Stephen's cheeks flush, his chest swelling just a bit even as he shrugs. He opens his mouth and then snaps it shut when a crash sounds in the kitchen and Chad’s sharp, jovial curse permeates the joyful atmosphere in the lounge.

“I should go check that out,” Stephen says with a smile.

Jared nods, his eyes finding Jensen across the room. He looks horrified, so much so that Jared can see Jensen' brain scrabbling for a solution even as he wades through the crowd.

It's a party but Jensen has been on edge all week. If it was just a small gathering of his nearest and dearest, he would be fine, but there are others here. It's supposed to be for him, but he's not the kind of person who can just relax and let everyone else do the heavy lifting.

Jared intercepts him at the kitchen door, gripping his wrist and tugging him away. “C'mon,” he whispers, pulling Jensen down the hall and into his room, kicking the door shut and shoving Jensen toward his own bed.

It's only slightly cleaner than it was the first time Jared visited this house, the floor cleared enough that Jensen doesn't plunge to his own death after being shoved. That's a positive, Jared supposes.

“Jared,” Jensen starts, his eyes flitting to the door over Jared's shoulder. “People will notice I’m gone.”

Jared doesn’t care, though. As much as he wants to believe that he and Jensen are forever, all he knows for sure is that he has two solid months before Jensen leaves for New York, until Jared has to go back to braving parties alone and deciding whether or not he’s going to throw himself into another play next year or maybe try out for basketball instead. He loved being a part of the theater department’s power couple but his passion was always for Jensen, not the stage.

The point is that everyone outside this door, friends from school and family and everyone, can disappear. Jensen is normally composed but when that door is closed, he’s comfortable freaking out in front of Jared. If Jared has only learned one thing this year - to be fair, he’s learned a lot - it’s how to calm Jensen down when he gets like this.

He drops to his knees at the foot of the bed and reaches for Jensen’s belt.

“Man, now is not the time,” Jensen chides, resting his hand over Jared’s but doing nothing to stop him. “What if my mom comes looking for me?”

“She’ll knock,” Jared assures him with a shrug. After that one time during Spring Break, she always knocks. 

Jensen considers him with a fond smile, as though maybe he’s remembering the moment Jared is alluding to, as though he could forget. He lifts a hand to Jared’s hair, raking his fingers through the growing strands, before he huffs a laugh. “Danneel won’t. Mac and Meg won’t. Chad won’t.”

All of those may be fair points but Jared weighs the pros and possible cons, pops the button on Jensen’s perfectly pressed chinos, and leans forward anyway. Jensen has been so good for him this year, for so many reasons, but this is perhaps the biggest of them all, pun possibly intended.

When they met at the beginning of the school year, Jared over-thought things a lot, especially where Jensen was concerned, and maybe he still does that sometimes. Jensen will always beat him out in the area of analyzing something from every angle, though. He’ll always come down on the side of what is good and proper for his image, for his _brand_ , as he’s become annoyingly fond of saying recently. It allows Jared to be a bit more reckless, to take chances that should probably scare him at this point in his life. It’s invaluable, no matter what happens at the end of the summer.

“You gonna relax a little?” Jared asks, confidence edging on arrogance as he smirks and swings his hair out of his eyes to get an unfettered look at Jensen. He’s leaned back on his elbows, lifting himself up just enough to consider Jared with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah, Jay,” he says, tightening his grip on Jared’s neck as Jared skims his lower lip against Jensen’s cock. “Yeah, whatever you want.”

Jensen’s cheeks and chest are flushed now, a bit of sweat beading at his temples and above his lip, his mask of perfection slipping just enough for Jared’s spine to zing and his hips to twitch against his control. 

Jared is still a kid mostly, pops wood at the slightest non-provocation still, but there is nothing in the world sexier than the guy everyone else knows to be perpetually composed as he starts to let go of himself and let Jared see what lies beneath that carefully constructed surface.

As far as Jared is concerned, this Jensen is his. No matter what happens in the future, next year, or even a few hours from now, this sometimes messy, always human guy is his and he’s going to do his best to hold on for as long as he can.

** January (Epilogue) **

Jensen is perfect, even when he's not. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, suspiciously eyeing the way Jared is eyeing him from across their shared shoebox apartment, unfurling the scarf from his neck before he tosses it and his pea coat onto the arm of the couch. 

It's been nearly five years now - four and a half, whatever - but Jared doesn't think he'll ever get his fill of watching Jensen move around any room. If he says as much, Jensen will flail about dramatically and go on a tangent about how Jared is too whimsical and fanciful for his own good. He'll secretly love it, but he'll go on forever about it. 

So Jared just shakes his head and returns his attention to the engineering textbook in front of him at the kitchen table. He was supposed to be studying at the school library but his pajamas were so comfortable and the heater is actually working in this rat trap for once, so he couldn't quite bring himself himself leave after lunch like he'd planned this morning. 

“There's coffee,” he says, pointing vaguely toward the machine Jared’s older brother sent them for Christmas this year, as though Jensen can't find it on his own, as though coffee isn't the one thing Jensen can always manage to find, no matter how much of a mess this place can be on a regular basis.

Peaking up from his book, Jared catches his breath and holds it. This is his favorite part of the day. The front door is where the always-poised Jensen tugs at the first seam. The trek across the living room and into the kitchen is where his outside-world persona unravels completely. 

He starts by kicking out of his loafers and sighing as he flexes his toes, digging them into the carpet and wiggling them before he turns and takes a few steps forward, yanking his cable knit sweater over his head and tossing it onto the sofa without bothering to fix his mussed hair. Next he tugs the hem of his pale button down free of his immaculately distressed jeans and unfastens it just far enough to pull it over his head as well, dropping it at his feet as he stops and shakes his head, rustling his fingers through his hair this time until it stands out on end in all directions. 

The grin he shoots Jared is as knowing as every one he's been shining Jared's way since they met. “Enjoying the show?” he asks, suggestively popping the button on his pants. He catches his tongue between his teeth and wiggles his eyebrows as he lowers the fly and shimmies them over his hips.

Jared knows he's blushing when he snaps his attention back to his book. “'m studying,” he insists.

“Sure you are, Sasquatch,” Jensen teases, grunting a bit when he bends to unroll the ankles of his pants before pulling them off and leaving them where they fall, as well. 

By the time he reaches Jared, pressing his hips to the back of Jared's shoulders and looping his arm around Jared's neck, he's totally relaxed and completely deconstructed. He is perfect like this, more perfect than he can ever hope to be on purpose. 

Sometimes it's still more than Jared is expecting, if he's honest about it all. In his final year of college, Jensen's is the name everyone knows. He lights up the stage, still commands all of the attention in every room he enters - he’s even been a featured criminal on _Law and Order_ this season - but when he comes home again, he's content to be the messy, human side of himself that Jared loves more than anything in the world.

“How dedicated are you to this studying of yours?” Jensen asks, breath warm against the side of Jared's neck.

He shivers in spite of the heat, dropping his pencil onto the book and shifting his attention. “I could be convinced to take a break,” but he resists when Jensen tries to straighten, grabbing his arms and holding him in place against Jared's back. “The heat's only on in here,” he says. 

“Think we can find a way warm it up, babe.”

It shouldn't be so hot to have a dick grinding against the back of his neck, Jared thinks. “I'm serious,” is what he says, ducking away because that's really not where he wants Jensen grinding right now. “It is like ice back there. My dick will probably try to crawl into my body for warmth and self-preservation,” he warns.

Jensen stops moving, standing upright and crinkling his nose. “Your brain is a terrifying place.”

“So is our bedroom right now,” Jared retorts, tugging on Jensen' hand until he stumbled and falls into Jared's lap.

He grumbles and moans even as he's shifting himself into a more comfortable position, straddling Jared's lap in nothing but his boxers. “We’re going to break this damn chair.”

Jared laughs, playfully smacking Jensen’s bare thigh. “An hour at the bookstore will earn me twice as much as this damn chair is worth,” he says.

Jensen looks like he might argue - because he always looks like he might argue - but drapes his arms over Jared’s shoulders as he leans in for a kiss that is absolutely hotter than any part of this apartment right now. 

Their relationship has changed a bit over the years, matured a lot and undergone a few ups and downs, like anyone’s does between high school and the real world. They’re both busy now, pursuing careers and making plans for the direction their individual paths to take while doing their damnedest to keep on this shared one together at the same time. It’s complicated, but it’s working better than Jared ever dared to dream.

“You’re affectionate today,” Jared finally says, breath short as they break from a particularly deep kiss that they don’t make time for much anymore. He runs his hands down Jensen’s back, gripping his ass and tugging him even closer in the limited space between them. “Everything okay?”

Jensen has always been great at talking except when it comes to his feelings, struggling to admit that things aren’t going as well as he’d like them to, even now. He’s predictable, though, easier for Jared to read than he used to be. 

Considering Jared for a long moment before he clears his throat, Jensen moves in for another kiss and then says, “It’s better now.”

There will be time to talk about it later, time to pry Jensen’s insecurities open and assure him that it’s not as bad as he’s built it up to be inside his analytic head. For now, Jared has other means in mind.

When he gives his hips an experimental roll, when the chair creaks beneath their combined weight, Jared has to admit that Jensen was right about its instability. He’s grown quite a bit since high school, filled out and gotten stronger and so much bigger, but so has Jensen and picking him up and carrying him into the living room is out of the question. Instead, he smacks Jensen’s hip and winks when Jensen rumbles and smacks his shoulder back.

“Couch,” he says.

Jensen scrunches his nose, has this weird thing about fucking where their friends sometimes sit to watch television together. “Let’s just go to bed, Jay,” Jensen counters.

Jared motions down the hall, let’s Jensen start back to their small room as he strips his own shirt over his head and drops it onto Jensen’s pants next to the table. He doesn’t bother following because Jensen is already headed back into the living room by the time Jared is finishing his impromptu, speed strip tease.

“It’s a fucking tundra back there,” Jensen grumbles, arms hugging his own chest for warmth.

With a shrug that says _I told you so_ better than Jared’s words ever could, he makes his way to the couch and sits, casting a glance over his shoulder until Jensen hangs his head in resignation and joins him, pushing Jared’s shoulders until he’s leaned back far enough for Jensen to climb on top.

As comfortable as Jensen is being himself in front of Jared, he’s still a show off and Jared hopes he always will be. He still stretches and arches at what he damn well knows are his best angles but it’s alright because this audience he has with Jared is the most important to him. Jared knows that now, has maybe always known it, and he shows his appreciation as enthusiastically today as he did five years ago.

“Mine,” he says, voice gruffer and more possessive than it used to be. His grip is stronger, literally bruising, against Jensen’s skin these days, more effective than it’s ever been. “My king,” he adds with a playful wink that makes Jensen blush, though he’ll never admit it.

“Stop,” Jensen insists, gripping Jared’s strong pecs in wide hands. “I mean, yeah, I’m yours, you’re mine, but it’s embarrassing how romance novel you get sometimes.”

“Embarrassing for whom?” Jared asks, swiveling his hips until he feels the hot, hard contact he didn’t know he’d been gagging for recently. They’ve both been way too busy. 

“Whom? Who says that?” Jensen teases, easing himself forward and back in a slow, easy rhythm. “Whom,” he adds with a derisive snort. “Excuse me, Your Highness.”

Jared stutters on his response when Jensen reaches behind himself to work a couple of lubed fingers into his own hole. “It’s the Queen’s English, you heathen,” Jared defends, licking his lips like a hungry animal when Jensen whimpers and writhes against Jared’s stomach.

Usually quick with the sardonic comeback, Jared watches as Jensen catches his lip between his teeth and then gasps when he takes Jared’s cock in a firm first and lowers himself onto it. “My queen,” he finally says, a playful twinkle in his eyes until Jared snorts and smacks his hip. “See? It sounds stupid.”

“Whatever,” Jared retorts, his brain losing focus on the banter as everything zeroes to the point where he’s buried deep inside the most fascinating person he’s ever met. “Feels awesome, though,” he finally adds, laughing along with Jensen when they finally look at each other again.

As Jensen begins to move, coaxes Jared into a set rhythm that sets Jared’s chest on fire, he winks and says, “Of course it feels awesome. It’s my ass and your cock. Best pairing since Jack and Rose.”

“Alright,” Jared huffs, pulling Jensen down as he drives his hips up, effectively wiping the shit-eating grin from Jensen’s mouth and causing him to groan as his head falls back. “First of all, they’re fictional,” he goes on, emphasizing his point with each thrust of his hips. “And second of all, she let him fucking die. My dick is not willing to let your ass die in the frozen depths of our bedroom, remember?”

“You’re the least,” Jensen stops short of finishing his statement with a long moan, gasping in time with Jared as though he’s forgotten what he was going to say. “Least romantic ever,” he finally manages to grit between clenched teeth as he falls forward and catches himself on the arm of the couch.

Bent over like this, Jared’s hands can grab hands full of the ass Jensen is so proud of, kneading and squeezing as his fingers play closer to the place where they’re joined. Jensen can say what he wants but Jared thinks knowing how hard Jensen gets off on Jared rubbing his rim while they’re fucking makes him plenty romantic. Or something. His brain isn’t really processing much else right now.

Later - much later, when they’ve showered and are sharing steaming cups of coffee while Jared pretends to study - Jensen reaches over to run his fingers through Jared’s drying hair and says, “Maybe we’re the best thing since Jay-Z and Beyonce.”

Jared sighs and gives up all pretenses, dropping his pen and leaning back into Jensen’s touch. “You’re still hung up on the queen thing, huh?” 

“Never lettin’ it go,” Jensen assures him and, not for the first time, Jared thinks no one has ever, never ever, looked at him the way Jensen does, as though he’s this awe-inspiring enigma that he wants nothing more than to spend his life solving.

Jared leans in, presses a kiss to Jensen’s mocha-flavored mouth, and says, “You better not,” when they part.

“Hashtag o-t-p,” Jensen says in a voice that sounds dreamy and far away, going in for another kiss and then another until the words process in Jared’s brain.

He barks a laugh into Jensen’s mouth and pulls back, shaking his head. “I’m the embarrassing one? When you say shit like that? Seriously?”

“You are,” Jensen nods, standing to make himself another cup. Over his shoulder, he says, “You’re a fool. I’m awesome.”

Jared doesn’t bother to argue. Jensen is right, in all the ways that matter and the ways that don’t, iIn the ways people see and appreciate and in the ones that are for Jared’s eyes only. Jensen is a dichotomy, an amalgamation of all the things, but he’s Jared’s and that makes him pretty damn awesome indeed.


End file.
